


Positive

by runningkin



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5199785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningkin/pseuds/runningkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the saddest of love stories are when two people want to be in love but they cannot accept what that means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Positive

The first time it happens, it comes as a surprise, even to Kate. She’s behind the glass in Interrogation when she begins feeling sick, telling McGee and DiNozzo she’ll be back in a second. DiNozzo smirks, hits McGee with a wry remark. McGee doesn’t worry himself over it. Abby stands besides Kate, as latter bows to a toilet bowl in an open stall of the bathroom. When there’s nothing more to spew, Kate leans back against Abby’s knees and cries, shoulders shaking because she feels so weak.

The second time it happens, Kate’s at home, eyelids heavy as she struggles to stay awake long enough to see the ending of the film DiNozzo loaned her. At first, it’s a jabbing pain; it comes when the sun is poking out of the horizon. She notices this beautiful sunrise because it’s the only place to look other than digested takeout. When she feels empty, she sits against the wall in the darkness. Soon after, sunlight fills the room, which smells of shrimp, but she sleeps through it. She is only jutted awake when the phone rings, and when she hangs up, she’s on another case.

The third time it happens, it’s not new to her. The wakes up in the morning, throat dry so that whenever she swallows it burns and stomach grumbling but she knows. As she puts on her robe and ties her hair patiently, she reminds herself she needs to do something today. When she’s done, she wipes her mouth with her wrist and makes breakfast a top priority. Her second priority is complete when she comes home from the pharmacy with nothing but a little stick that makes her sick in the stomach for something much less physical. 30 minutes later, she sits on the bedside, noticing how much has changed. The tears are warm against her face, which make her notice how cold her skin feels. She can’t stop looking down at the little stick she holding between folded hands on her lap. A pregnancy test. It’s positive.

The fourth time it happens, it is followed by a fifth time, and a sixth time. She tells no one about the pregnancy test. She made sure to dispose of it the night she had gotten in. On her way back from a restaurant, she passes by a furniture store. It is the first time she notices how small the cribs are.

The seventh time it happens, she lays in bed and cries because she stopped doubting it and she’s come to terms with it, or at least that’s what she tells herself. She regrets it, falling in love. She remembers Tony’s words, from that day. Stockholm syndrome? She brushed it off so quickly. She brushed it off many times she stopped feeling guilty about it, and she stopped questioning herself. She brushed it off when she got a call telling her to meet up in the park. He’s standing in the gazebo, perfect teeth smiling, eyes cold but she’s sure she can see the truth behind their amber gaze, the kindness. She barely spoke that night. How could they speak, when the others covered their mouths? She felt her skin prick wherever he touched it. She brushed it off when it was her that asked for him, when the two were so bare and so close to each other that her skin burned and her throat was sore and he had to remind her to stay quiet and she ignored him, nodding so feverishly just so he’d keep going. She brushed it off all the times that she sat at her table and he stood in the kitchen touching nothing except the ground he paced on, and for many moments she forgot to hate him, and she’d grip her dress him so she would cry in front of him but it was no use because he could smell her tears. She brushed it off when she hoped that a case would be linked to him, just so she could hear him say her name one more time, through sharp, bared teeth and silver lined eyes. She brushed it off when he told her he was in town and the two met half way and couldn’t keep their hands off each other. He was so much more patient than her, but, oh, she didn’t mind being desperate, if it meant seeing the swagger in his hips as one lead the other to a place they could talk in undertones and whispers into the other’s neck, a place they could grip every part of the other’s body until two people become one creature, in the dark. Her story was so sad, their story.

Sometimes the saddest of love stories are when two people want to be in love but they cannot accept what that means.

The eighth time it happens, she finishes and contacts him. He’s someplace she doesn’t know about. She’s vague, dark, cold to him, and he smiles as he says to her softly that he simply cannot. She tells him briskly she doesn’t care, and he chuckles. It makes her heart blister and she bites her lip until he can’t continue playing her anymore and drops her. When she comes back home he’s sitting on the couch, helmet on the coffee table and as she puts her purse down on the counter he seems like he belongs. He’s watching television, and she’s watching him, her fingers barely in her pockets. He takes the pregnancy test and slams it against the table, grinning. She second-guesses this meet, but soon she’s against the kitchen wall and she has no time to thing. His eyes are closed, hers too, and he holds her with one hand and shuts the blinds with the other. She loves feeling him fraught. He leaves soon after, with his helmet and the test. She doesn’t notice. She picks her clothing off the ground and showers. She’s silent tonight, and despondent.

The ninth time it happens, she’s already in the bathroom, but this time she’s strapping on a vest. It’s on too tight and her stomach comes undone. This time is quick, just to 7 minutes. She rushes out and away without flushing. It’s on the rooftop when she begins to tremble. Her Sig shakes in her hand, but she doesn’t miss a shot. By the time she sees the shooter, aiming at Gibbs, she’s deprived and barely thinking. She jumps in front of him to protect him. Spread-eagled on the pavement she thinks about her child. It’s agonizing. She would have stayed there upon the ground if it weren’t for Gibbs and DiNozzo. It even hurts to laugh, but it doesn’t hurt when the shot rings out. It’s a fast death, Ari knows that. It still hurts him but he doesn’t admit it.

-

Autopsy is somber when Kate comes in. Ducky speaks to her, and although she does in his head, she doesn’t reply on the slab. He stands there for many moments, and suddenly he detests what he does. He’s kind to Kate, more than ever this time, and she’s thankful.

He’s very thorough. Enough so that he notices she’s pregnant. He asks her who the father is, but she remains still this time, and pale. He doesn’t call Abby for a DNA test. He doesn’t call anyone, in fact. It their secret now.

-

In the few minutes that he sits alone in the basement, he thinks of her body in Autopsy. He doesn’t stop himself. He keeps thinking about it when Gibbs arrives. He calls himself a monster, but he tells Gibbs a different story than the truth. Bastard he calls himself, and it’s true. But what comes out of his mouth isn’t true. Bastard he repeats, because all he knows to do is lie.

When he is shot, it is also quick, but not quick enough. He lays on the basement ground for a long enough moment to invision a different life.

When Ziva leaves, it is only he and Gibbs. Gibbs is quiet, but he isn’t thinking. He doesn’t think when he squats down and checks Ari with ungloved hands. He checks his pulse, just in case, his firearm. When he finds it he props himself against the wall and is unobtrusive and incensed.

“Bastard.” The words are finally in the tense air, “You bastard.”

He doesn’t have to check for DNA. The positive pregnancy test belonged to Kate. And Kate belonged to Ari.


End file.
